The last line of the letter lay flat on the table, as if it had weight.
No one spoke. The little room counted its own noises - the thin breath of the vent, a slow drip somewhere behind the wall, the soft rasp of paper fibers settling after hands let go.
Raizen's fingertips rested on the edge of the page.
Hikari's hands were in her lap, palms pressed together.
Dim rays shone from the narrow window, dust moving through it in patient arcs.
The torn envelope sat on the table, rip too clean, careless in a way that now felt wrong.
A wet line gathered at the corner of Hikari's eye and slipped down without her noticing. It reached her cheekbone, hesitated, and fell to the floor. The drop left a dark circle the size of a seed.
"Huh…?" she looked at it as if she had never seen a tear before. Her brows bent, not from pain - from confusion.
She never cried before.
Raizen didn't say anything.
He just gently stretched his hand and wiped off Hikari's tear.
Inside, a heavy thing shifted. He had carried it for a long time.
It felt like anger. It felt like clarity. It told him to sharpen himself and shatter everything that needed breaking.
It had a voice and the voice was filled with bloodlust.
He could hear it now, sharp and wrong. It wanted the letter to be a list of names he could kill.
Revenge.
The kettle sat cold on the burner. Raizen turned the dial, and waited for the spark.
Fire took on the third click. Heat rose and made the metal sing a thin note.
He found three cups and measured leaves by habit. One cup near Hikari, one for him and... One where Takeshi used to sit.
He could still hear the old man's voice from the page. Plain and not pretty, just as he himself said.
Hikari read the letter again.
And again.
And again.
Her gaze found a paragraph in the middle - cups washed because someone forgot, a chair fixed quietly... Her shoulders lifted and settled, in small, uneven steps.
A small sound tried to climb out of Raizen's throat. Only a strangled exhale came out.
He remembered the day his own village had gone quiet.
When cried until he couldn't anymore.
Now, it felt the same. Like knocking at a door and finding out the room was empty.
For a moment the light made steam look like a curtain. Hikari closed her eyes while the warmth touched her face and another small tear decided to roll down her cheek.
She... Didn't recognize this feeling. She didn't know why her eyes were watering, why she felt like she wanted to hug something like a pillow and bury her face in it.
She wrapped her hands around the cup and didn't drink. The heat soaked into her fingers. That still didn't feel like it was enough. Her face was completely empty.
Raizen didn't tell her that everything would be allright. There was no need to bend the truth to make it easier to hold. He did not say what he felt, because saying it would only make everything worse.
He just stood behind her and let his nearness be the silent consolation.
He steadied his own breathing until it made a soft pattern.
Hikari tasted a tear absently, as if confirming a fact. Confusion left her face. What replaced it was not hardness. It was something quieter.
Acceptance without surrender.
She pressed the cloth gently to her cheek and set it down in a neat fold.
Raizen's thoughts laid themselves out with the precision training had taught him. There were two roads.
He could let the sharp voice lead his feet - go looking for smoke with a blade and call it justice.
It would feel like power and end like hunger: never enough.
Or he could lift the weight - no - the legacy Takeshi had left on the table and carry it.
In other words, keep the world lit.
That road was slower. It asked him to stand where he was and make a promise he would never break.
Protect, the thought said.
It did not argue with anything. It didn't need to. The seed was already there.
First, her. Hikari.
Then whoever stands behind when the chaos comes.
He picked up the letter and refolded it along the original creases.
He slid it back into the envelope and pressed the flap flat. Then set it upright against the wall above the table.
Not hidden.
More like... Proof. Witness. Call it however you want.
Then Raizen stepped close enough that Hikari could feel him without being crowded. He lifted his hand, waited a heartbeat, and rested his palm lightly on her shoulder. The weight said only "I'm here".
She didn't lean in. She didn't lean away either.
But tears kept coming, slower now, as if the body had finished arguing with itself and was simply doing what it needed. She kept her eyes on the letter standing against the wall. Her face was wet and unguarded.
He couldn't cry. He wanted to. He really did.
But sometimes the world steals all of your tears and doesn't leave room for any more.
Raizen looked at Hikari once more. He didn't try to read her face. He let it be. He let himself be, too.
The heavy thing in him, the one that shifted, finally settled where it needed to live. He could finally all see it now.
The vow changed. Now, it wasn't "I swear. I'll kill all Nyxes. All of them." anymore.
The mysteriouswhisper slid through the back of his skull again - quiet, patient, certain.
Protect her.
Protect them all.
Whatever it takes.
Raizen opened his eyes. The fear was gone. The doubt was gone.
Only that new vow remained.
If the world insisted on being dark…
Then he would become the light that hunts the darkness all the way to the end of the world.
Light sharp enough to cut.
Light strong enough to win.
And this time - he would not apologize for surviving.
He will keep the world lit.
Because the darkness never stays silent for too long.
Because somewhere in the depths of the Underworks... Takeshi finally found his enemy.